


the thing about hair

by winterbitch (WinterLadyy)



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geralt's Hair, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, that's a thing here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22278106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterLadyy/pseuds/winterbitch
Summary: It takes Jaskier a bit to notice, but at some point, he can't deny the knowledge - Geralt likes having his hair pulled. And pulled hard.He's about to use it to his advantage, of course, because a man can only pine so much.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 882





	the thing about hair

**Author's Note:**

> its short and stupid sorry. geralt's hair was made for this kink

The first time it happens Jaskier doesn’t really notice it, and with a good reason.

They’re fighting a giant kikimora and it’s not going well, so when Jaskier finally gets to Geralt, bloody and not looking good, he grabs the first thing he can which turns out to be Geralt’s hair.

He doesn’t think the Witcher will notice, either way, already cut apart, so Jaskier gathers his strength and _yanks,_ hard and sure. Geralt makes a sound, weird and choked down, but the bard isn’t thinking, too focused on getting them out.

Usually, it’s Geralt’s job, but for some reason, the Witcher wasn’t too keen on leaving the fight, even after it was sure he wouldn’t win, so Jaskier takes the task head-on.

It takes him a second to drag the struggling Witcher away, and then Geralt is yelling, Jaskier is yelling and it’s forgotten.

The second time, he notices.

Geralt is carrying him to the inn after Jaskier tripped and twisted his ankle, and the bard is whining and complaining the whole way.

The other man stays surprisingly silent. It’s strange as Geralt never fails to tell Jaskier to shut up, but this time he’s silent and tense, staring into the distance.

“Geralt!” Jaskier whines again. “Pay attention to me, I’m hurt.”

Geralt just grunts and this time it’s not enough for him. Jaskier’s eyes narrow and he pulls at the Witcher’s hair, definitely noticing how it makes the man shiver. Something nags at his brain, something to consider on a later date.

“Geralt!”

“What do you want, Jaskier?”

He smiles, lays his head on Geralt’s shoulders and starts talking.

The third time, Jaskier knows. It’s hard to miss, as the room is quiet and warm, and the Witcher is naked in the tub, as he often is.

Jaskier is sat behind him, washing some brain-matter from Geralt’s hair, and it’s not his fault that there’s a knot there.

His fingers catch on it and he accidentally pulls at the long hair. The sound Geralt makes goes straight to his cock.

It’s a chocked back moan, quiet and rough and definitely there, even if it’s almost silent. Jaskier may not have a Witcher’s hearing, but he’s a musician, and Geralt is right in front of him.

He smirks a dark, needy smile, already adding it to the many things that are attractive about the Witcher.

The bard makes use of that list not two months later, in some castle where there’s a job.

Jaskier is sat on Geralt’s lap, kissing the man deeply, their tongues touching and Geralt’s arms wrapped around his waist. It’s too much and not enough and he _hates_ that they’re still dressed.

“Clothes,” he mutters against Geralt’s lips, a bit desperate. His only answer his a grunt, so Jaskier grabs Geralt’s hair with a devilish smirk and pulls again.

This time, the moan is loud and shocked. Geralt’s eyes are wide when they meet his, and Jaskier’s smirk turns dirty.

“Come on, Witcher, clothes,” he repeats, tugging and pulling again at the white hair, making the other man moan and shudder against him.

This time, Geralt listens and almost tears Jaskier’s clothes apart, making the bard moan quietly. Then, they’re on the bed, the Witcher’s weight pressing Jaskier to the mattress, warm and heavy.

They’re both hard, leaking all over the place so Jaskier rubs himself against Geralt’s hard stomach, whining into his mouth.

He uses his hold on the man’s hair to tug him down, smiling at every shudders it pulls out of Geralt, and then it’s just a warm mouth on his cock.

Geralt doesn’t seem to have any issues sucking cock, so Jaskier uses that to his advantage, moaning and thrusting into the warm mouth, fingers absolutely tangled in the white strands.

The Witcher himself is also moaning, every sound sending vibrations down Jaskier’s spine, making him even harder, more desperate.

“Fuck, Geralt,” he manages to choke out, eyes closed.

He opens them when he hears the Witcher move, and when Jaskier looks down, he’s blessed by the sight of his Witcher fucking the mattress with his mouth full of Jaskier’s cock, pupils blown wide and hair a mess.

Jaskier tugs and pulls at his hair, almost screaming at the amazing sensations and then he’s coming, arching off the bed and pulling almost too hard.

Geralt doesn’t seem to think so, as he makes a rough sound around the cock in his mind and then stills, coming as well.

They’re both panting in the silent room, messy and covered in body fluids, but Jaskier kisses his lover shamelessly, licking the taste of himself out of the other man’s mouth.

“So, hair pulling, hm?” he asks lazily, smirking.

Geralt rolls his eyes but he looks fond. “Think I preferred you not speaking,” he answers, his voice even rougher now.

Jaskier smiles wickedly and wraps a leg around his Witcher’s waist.

“Then you’ll have to find another way to shut me up, yes?”


End file.
